A Day in the Life of an Insurrectionist
by InsurrectionSniper
Summary: Taking place primarily at the Longshore Shipyards and aboard the Staff of Charon, Insurrection second in command and top sniper Michael lives out his daily life. One of the Original Six, the elite ODSTs in black and red armor, along with Raleigh (the girl), Jason (the leader), James (AKA Sharkface), Kolby (The Red Demo Man), and Ezekiel (the guy without sleeves).


A Day in the Life of an Insurrectionist

Chapter 1

"Ezekiel! Report to my office on the fucking triple!" My angered yell could be heard throughout the shipyards, mostly because it was on an active intercom, but also because I naturally had a loud voice, perfect for a leader or a drill sergeant, not so much for a sniper. I may secondarily lead an insurrection, just under Jason, but is it necessary? I'm already one of the Original Six, one of the "Elites in Black Armor" and naturally hold a leadership role because of it, but I'm the best of the best as a sniper. I'm supposed to be quiet, still, patient. At the moment I'm the exact opposite. I can't sit still, and I'm yelling all the time since my patience is wearing thin. Fucking great.

Back to reality, Zeke comes walking in… Lookie here, in slow motion, just to piss me off. Zeke is the brute of us. Arms too big to fit in armor, so he is the sleeveless one with the rocket launcher on his back, end of discussion.

"Sit down," I try to sound calm, but utterly fail, and accidentally knock my helmet off the desk. He shakes his head.

"What did I do this time," he defiantly asks. He knows what he did.

"You broke the A/C unit in the rec building. People sleep, eat, and live in that building, moron. And we work in an area that has nothing but heat and water for miles on end. You cannot go breaking A/C units just because Raleigh won't get in bed with you and get on your dick. Number one, they keep us from melting alive in this shithole and two, A/C's are not cheap. To maintain, or replace." I go on and on about this. I could bitch all damn day. I am second in command anyway. "So tell me. What's you're excuse this time?"

"Wasn't me this time." He sounds confident.

"I call bullshit. Who else could punch through half-inch titanium walls? No one I know but you. And surveillance can't lie."

"Fine. But it's been a while though, since the last one."

"A year isn't long enough, Zeke, those things are not easy to replace or dispose of. We're done here anyway. Go do whatever it is you do when you're not busy breaking out air conditioning or getting laid by Ral. Shoo. Shoo." I wave him off in that way that says just that. Shoo.

"See ya Michael. If you're up for it, maybe you could try making me give at least one fuck for once," He is a pest. His top response to something is that he does not give a single fuck.

"Get out before I throw a knife in your visor." My knives are poisoned and he knows it. He also knows I don't kid around about throwing shit. Until he's gone, I put my feet up on my desk and look at my hand as though my fingernails were visible.

Oh yeah, and in case you're wondering who Raleigh-or Ral-is, she's the girl on the team. And I use "Girl" quite literally. Sure, she's as mature as the rest of us on the Original Six, twenty-four, with the young looks to match. But I use girl in a way meaning she is a slut. Every night, I hear her and either Jason, Zeke, or Kolby through the walls. Oh yeah, Kolby is our "Red Demo Man" with a prosthetic arm. I'll be honest, he's a little too fond of shotguns, but I've never seen a better warthog driver. But I'll save him for later. Back to Raleigh, she is that blonde that almost every guy wants on his arm, but when she's not in bed, she is deadly. There is no one better with dual magnums, or kukri knives. I don't like her. I never did. I have even less reason to now, since I'm a married man with a daughter.

"Sir?" James pokes his head through the door. James is a good kid. The youngest of the Six, and Kolby's little brother. He's only 21, but still. He started off with the five of us, and as a result, he's an elite. He's intimidating, to be honest. Not because he's bipolar. A nice kid one minute and a fighting machine the next. Mostly because of his equipment. It's big. A fuel tank on his back, flamethrower in his hands, and a shark mouth painted on the visor.

"Hey kiddo. What's up?" I take my feet off the desk and see my dark brown hair fall in two long tufts in front of and between my eyes, right where it should be. I like it messy.

"Zeke's looking pissed again." He told me something I already know, but oh well. James just being James. And what can I say? I like the kid.

"My fault. He broke the rec building's A/C again."

"Wow. How long's it been? A year?"

"Don't remind me. It's a pain to deal with, replace, hear about, and live with."

"Sorry sir."

"Not so formal James, I don't really like it."

"Sorry sir...er… I mean Michael."

"Don't worry about it," I say with a smile. "Off you go, I've got some work to do."

"Alright. Later Michael." He walked out of my office. And so did I after picking up my helmet off the floor. With it under my arm, I walked back to my room, on the top floor of the rec building, with five others identical.

I dropped the helmet on the bed and went to the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror for a while. Gray eyes, dark, messy brown hair, a scar on my cheek from a fight in high school with the jocks. Heh. We sent them home with tears crying for their mothers. High School was a blur now, but there's a lot I still remember. Some of it good, some of it bad. A lot of it bad, actually. That was the first time I died.

I hear a voice come from the doorway, and just before I look and respond I think to myself _Shit… I left the door unlocked_. I walk out of the bathroom and see her standing there, same look as ever. Tank top. Shorts. Brown hair combed to her right, brown energetic eyes. Jason's sister.

"Hey Connie. What's up?"

"Just wondering how your day's going." Okay, something's up.

"Fine, but you know very well not to flirt with a married man." I start to take off my armor, starting with the chest plate. "What happened?" Her smile disappeared, tears replacing it. She knows that even though we broke up four years ago, I still care for her.

"Jason…"

"Ah. Say no more," She turned to fully face me. She'd had her head turned slightly so I couldn't see the left side of her face. It was red. My armor was off by this point and all that was left was the black undersheath. I examined her for a moment, "He hit you again didn't he?" She walked over to me and wrapped her arms around me, and buried her face in my chest. I hugged her tightly,

"He told me I was a waste of a sister," She said through tears and sharp breaths. I held her close and for a while I was busy comforting her for the next twenty minutes. Before way too long, she was feeling better and I sent her off.

"Just avoid him for a while," I told her just before she left.

"I will. Thanks Michael."

"See you tomorrow." And with that, she was gone. It was easily 8:30 and I was exhausted. Today was a long day, and tomorrow is another. I shut and locked the door, climbed in bed, and as soon as I hit the pillow, I was out cold.

**AN: This is my first Fic, and I would appreciate reviews. Go hard on criticism, let me know what you think. Chapter two soon. Thanks for any support. **


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